


Fluty Hoofdancer's Portrait

by Tabbyluna



Series: Fictober 2020 [22]
Category: Skylanders (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Kidfic, School, art classes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabbyluna/pseuds/Tabbyluna
Summary: That day, Splat needed to sit for some lecture telling her what she was allowed to draw. This was because, once again, she had gotten in trouble in art class for drawing something other than Fluty Hoofdancer. She wasn’t even doing anything much. Merely scribbling a puppy in the corner of her sketchbook. But apparently, it was bad enough that her teacher requested that she see her after class.
Series: Fictober 2020 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947136
Kudos: 1





	Fluty Hoofdancer's Portrait

**Author's Note:**

> Hard to believe I'm almost done with fictober. Never thought it would have been possible, yet here we are.

That day, Splat needed to sit for some lecture telling her what she was allowed to draw. This was because, once again, she had gotten in trouble in art class for drawing something other than Fluty Hoofdancer. She wasn’t even doing anything much. Merely scribbling a puppy in the corner of her sketchbook. But apparently, it was bad enough that her teacher requested that she see her after class.

So she sat in the empty classroom, sketching in her notebook, periodically looking out the window. The teacher had confiscated her sketchbook earlier that afternoon. So for the time being, she was going to have to settle with drawing in the same book she did math homework in. At least it was paper. As long as she had it, she knew she would continue drawing.

The sound of footsteps came from the hallway, so she stuffed her notebook back in her bag. Later, when she got home, she would have to erase it. Can’t let anyone else find out about her sketches after all. 

And it was a good thing she kept her notebook away when she did, because soon after she did, her teacher walked in. The strictest of the lot. Her art teacher, Mrs Grassfield. She was a stern old lady, with grey hair always tightly tied up in a prim and proper bun. Her clothes were always cleaned, starched, and ironed. Not a single wrinkle could ever be seen on them. And behind her thin-rimmed glasses, there were the sharpest, most acidic pair of green eyes one could ever hope to see in their lifetime. Though she was short, she always had such a commanding energy about her that no child ever dared disobey her in class. 

Well, almost no children…

“So, Splat,” she said, her enunciation crisp and clear. The way she spoke seemed to force anyone in the room to listen to her, you could never drown her voice out. “You were doodling in my class today. Did you have fun?”

Splat sat up, trying her best to look big. “I did actually.”

“I did actually who?”

She sighed. “I did actually,  _ Mrs Grassfield _ . I had a lot of fun doodling.” At least it wasn’t drawing Fluty Hoofdancer again. Art would be her favourite class, if only she was allowed to do more in it.

“Right then,” Mrs Grassfield walked up closer to Splat, looking down at her. She pushed her glasses up so that they sat right in front of her eyes. “While you were doodling freely, with no rules, no technique, what were you learning?”

“Excuse me?” Splat raised an eyebrow.

“What were you learning while doodling in class today? This is still an educational institute. You were in the middle of class. What were you learning today?”

Splat wanted to make a snide remark. Something about how she never felt like she was learning in regular classes, so as an educational institute the school had failed. But the last time she tried to sass a teacher, she had gotten a month of after-school detentions. And she had no intentions to repeat that experience again. 

So, she decided to be sincere. “Creativity,” she said, “I was learning creativity.”

Mrs Grassfield smirked. “Oh? Creativity you say?” She leaned against the desk, so that she was directly looking down on Splat. “Would you care to elaborate?"

“Gladly,” said Splat. Smirking though she knew she was risking another detention. Still, she simply had to tell her what was on her mind. “You see ma’am, I have problems with the way class is run. I hate how we’re only allowed to draw the same thing over and over again.”

Splat stood up. At that point, she had already grown taller than Mrs Grassfield, a fact which she was very proud of. “I don’t think it’s really fair to limit me - to limit all of us in class, I mean - like that. In my opinion, art and creativity should be used to help people share what’s within them, not to make people uniform. It’s supposed to aid in understanding, not conformity. And no matter what form it takes, whether a doodle done in class or a painting made by a grand master, if it comes from the heart, it should be called art.”

Admittedly, all she did was paraphrase something she read from a book a while ago. But she agreed with it so much, she had almost practically engraved those words within her heart.

Mrs Grassfield chuckled when she finished saying all that. “And you truly believe it?”

“I do, ma’am.”

And Mrs Grassfield merely raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Splat, tell me, what do you see in the front of this classroom?”

Splat looked at the corkboard. On it were tons and tons of the same picture of Fluty Hoofdancer pinned on. They looked practically identical from where Splat was. “What about them, ma’am?”

“All of these pictures came from all my star pupils in the past. Every single one of them obeyed me, listened to what I taught. And all of them got rewarded for it in return.” She walked over to them, as if to admire them. “They all graduated school with flying colours, and now live a happy life with their own families. And you know why they ended up like that?”

Splat shrugged her shoulders, bracing herself for the upcoming lecture.

“Because they knew how to follow instructions. They knew their place in the system. The great elders of the past had already drawn such wondrous things, to make anything else would be simply arrogant. Which is why we teach you how to copy what they had drawn. If the life our ancestors had was good enough for them, then it will be good enough for the rest of us. Hardly anyone else in your class has objected,” she turned back and looked down at her with a glare, “and neither should you.”

She then smiled at her. As if she didn’t just spend the last five minutes lecturing her. “Anyways, that’s all I have to say for today. Here’s your sketchbook, and don’t ever do that in class again.” Splat accepted her sketchbook back with a single, reluctant word of thanks.

That day, she headed to the brook again. And just like any afternoon after a bad day at school, she fought off the chompies. But that evening, when she finished dinner and took her bath, she didn’t feel at all like completing her homework. There was simply too much on her mind to focus. So instead, she pulled out her sketchbook, and drew until she felt too tired to continue.

Not a single one of her drawings that evening had been of Fluty Hoofdancer.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, screw the education system.


End file.
